


Xbox Players

by Writing-The-Impractical-Jokers (writingfanfic)



Category: Impractical Jokers
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Joe can't put together an Xbox
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 10:10:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12166833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-The-Impractical-Jokers
Summary: For the prompt: 'hey can you do a fic that revolves around an age gap? obv nothing even remotely underage, but still a sizeable age gap?'Yup! Reader is roughly 20, Joe is roughly 40. Also, he has disassembled an Xbox. *sigh*





	Xbox Players

“Yanno what? You’re young, you can help with this.”

You look up, raising your eyebrow, and Joe shrugs at you, looking down at the games console.

“Stereotype much?” you ask, and he looks up at you.

“You wanna talk about how you left puttin’ this back together for the guy?” he asks, and you grin at him. “Get your cute ass down here and help me figure out… okay. I replaced the lens… thing.”

“Do you know what console this is?” you ask playfully, and slide down onto the floor, throwing your magazine aside. “Do you, old man?” He folds his arms, and then pushes your shoulder playfully.

“You’re what… half my age?”

“The  _rule_  is half your age, plus seven. Tut tut, Mr. Gatto. Okay, do you have any instruction?” He nods, sliding you his iPhone – he has actually made it onto a hardware forum, and you scroll down. “Oh, Jesus, I hate Xbox players.”

“You  _are_  Xbox players,” he says, flatly, and you roll your eyes.

“ _Other_  Xbox players.” You look at the mess of console pieces. “How…?”

“I can take things apart. I can’t put ‘em back together again.” He huffs, and folds his arms. “And… okay, I have no clue what a pentiometer is.”

“Potentiometer,” you read. “Me neither. You’re old, c’mon, you fix it.” He picks up a screwdriver, and you wonder briefly if he’s going to electrocute himself. The thing is unplugged, but you wonder all the same. “Okay. Let’s do it together. The young shall lead the old.”

“You’re sure mouthy for someone who can’t drink yet,” he mutters, and you stick your tongue out.

“Don’t worry. Your midlife crisis knows how to wield a screwdriver…  _hey_!” you gasp, as he lunges at you, and kisses you hard. You grin, and kiss him back, letting the differences between you melt away.

“My midlife crisis better never leave,” he says quietly, and you feel your heart flutter. “Alright, I have a plan on how we can put this back together. The wisdom of age, if you will, sweetheart.”

“Go ahead?”

“…we gotta buy another Xbox.”


End file.
